


Of Course!

by Sinister_Kid



Series: Lion, 9:41 Dragon [12]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Banter, Cullen Rutherford Is So Done, Developing Relationship, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Before the Dawn, Innuendo, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinister_Kid/pseuds/Sinister_Kid
Summary: Cullen and Adaar travel to the Shrine of Dumat.
Relationships: Male Adaar/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Lion, 9:41 Dragon [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1157210
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	Of Course!

The trail that was left by the purchase and shipment of tools and materials likely used to craft Samson’s armor led the Inquisition to an ancient fortress on the outskirts of Ghilain, near the northwestern border between Orlais and Nevarra. A dry, arid region that was painstaking to navigate and largely uninhabited, which made it the perfect hiding place for an army of Red Templars. The road leading to and from the fortress, what had once been a shrine to the Old God Dumat, had seen some activity in recent months, according to locals.

Cullen, upon receiving word, was quite certain this was where the Inquisition would no doubt find Raleigh Samson. The Commander of the Inquisition was fighting tooth and nail to keep from barreling head first into the fight as he was so enraged by Samson’s heinous acts, so he was on edge the entire journey out of the Frostbacks and across eastern Orlais. In their company were Dorian, the Iron Bull, and a small contingent of men that would rendezvous with a larger force near the border where they were to make camp, a safe distance from the fortress.

Cullen hoped to have the element of surprise, and have the upper hand against Samson. He wouldn’t hold his breath for such a thing, but he also hoped to catch Samson alive and bring him back to Skyhold for questioning. While every fiber of Cullen’s being wished for nothing but the ex Templar’s untimely death, Sister Leliana had proposed the idea that they interrogate him first. Perhaps he could give up the locations of other Red Templar encampments they’d yet to discover, more information on Red Lyrium, and what Corypheus planned to do next.

Having Maddox as an assistant to Dagna would be invaluable as well, provided the Tranquil would cooperate with the Inquisition. At the very least, having his research into Red Lyrium and its effects would be quite useful to the arcanist. Inquisitor Adaar didn’t like the idea of bringing Samson back to Skyhold as their prisoner, but nonetheless he agreed to it, and so they embarked. The horse Cullen currently perched atop had seen better days, but was a seasoned forder that didn’t flinch at cannon fire.

A gift from Dennet in the early days of the Inquisition. A stalky brute, big enough for the Inquisitor himself to ride. Dorian, who rode just behind Adaar and to Cullen’s left, was seated on a twin mare, also sporting a rugged winter coat, another of Dennet’s thoroughbreds. Some of the younger mounts, though they’d been broken to ride, still bolted at the sound of swords being drawn or magic being casted, but these two didn’t so much as bat an eyelash in combat. Cullen’s mount in particular had weathered the assault on Haven and the Commander almost felt privileged to ride it.

Behind them the Iron Bull scratched his left horn atop another armored charger, as they navigated the winding path that led out of the mountains and into the basin, Ataashi Adaar leading the procession, their contingent trailing just behind them. The journey was made mostly in silence for the first day, any words spoken pertained only to the task at hand and finding the safest route through the Dales to avoid any entanglements with the locals. Come nightfall they stopped to make camp, and conversation mostly consisted of quiet murmuring among the soldiers.

The region was sweltering hot, and humid, so Cullen forewent his fur mantle, though he didn’t dare remove his armor. If there was one thing the attack on Haven taught him it was to never let down his guard, even for a moment. Dorian also discarded his woolen cloak the moment they entered warmer territory, and currently leaned against a tree next to Cullen in only is mage coat, clutching his staff, as Cullen sharpened the blade of his Ferelden longsword while they observed tonight’s entertainment. 

After camp had been erected and supper had been served, Bull and Adaar decided to grace the soldiers with some light sparring, Bull wearing only his pauldron, leaving most of his broad chest exposed to the elements, and Ataashi even more scandalously clad in only the bottom half of his brand new set of _antaam-saar_ , the black samite clinging tightly to his thighs. He’d anticipated the warmer climate and traded his heavier battlemage gear for a lighter set of clothes, enchanted to withstand near as much as the armor could.

The _vitaar_ painted on his skin was ghostly white, and rather frightening to behold. It made him look almost savage in the firelight, as he and Bull circled one another, teeth bared, each clutching wooden staves, while their gaggle of onlookers watched with baited breath. The men murmured to one another placing their bets on who would win the match, the women blushed and whispered in one another’s ears admiring the physical prowess of each man in the ring. Cullen could hardly blame them, as there was much to admire.

Bull had both an edge as well as a disadvantage over the Dragon, exceeding him by at least ten years of age. Ataashi was lighter, and faster, but Bull had more fighting experience on his side. Ataashi often had to exploit Bull’s blind spot in order to gain the upper hand. But Bull had a brute strength Ataashi lacked, as he’d spent many years wielding heavy two-handed weapons in combat. He was slower, but stronger, and the two were very evenly matched as long as the Dragon didn’t cast any spells. They always came to a draw any time they’d ever sparred at Haven.

Cullen paused in sharpening his blade to watch with fascination as Ataashi danced around his opponent with tempered ease, like an acrobat, avoiding most of the Iron Bull’s blows. Obviously Shokrakar and Adaar taught him well. He noticed that his hair had grown some since leaving for the Dales the last time around, and while most of it was braided down his back, bits of it hung down over his horns and in his eyes. Still, the word held true. Ataashi was beautiful. Though he’d probably scoff if he knew the effeminate way Cullen would describe him. 

Ten years ago, Cullen would’ve scoffed at the mere notion of standing and idly watching two kossith sparring. He would think it absurd. After a time he stood upright, both legs sore and aching from horseback riding, sheathed his blade at his side and folded both arms. Watching Ataashi fighting shirtless, flexing those bulging muscles of his with every effort against Bull, was absolute torture. He snorted at the revelry. “You suppose they do it on purpose?” he asked Dorian, who smirked beside him, reaching up to smooth the mustache on his upper lip as he admired the Bull.

“Of course they do it on purpose,” he purred. 

Cullen’s eyes wandered over the Inquisitor once more.

“We’re not going to stop them, are we?” he asked.

Dorian gave a low hum in amusement.

“Of course we aren’t, Commander.”

Cullen let out a chuckle at that.

They continued their silent observation as Bull attempted to disarm Ataashi and wrestle him to the ground, voices of the onlookers raising in volume until they were near to shouting as the fight got more intense. Cullen would be loathe to admit he was completely biased, and kept his fingers crossed in the crook of his arm that the Inquisitor would win the match. It didn’t look likely to happen this time around, as Bull currently had the upper hand. But to their shock and Cullen’s amusement, Ataashi was able to wriggle himself free of the hold, then scramble to his feet.

With one sharp right hook to the jaw, Bull was knocked back down, the crowd erupting in laughter, and the Inquisitor letting out a chuckle as he watched Bull groan as he rolled in the dirt, before reaching out to help him up. “That was a good one, Boss,” Bull commended, and they both clasped their forearms together, patting one another one the back before breaking apart. Ataashi took the victory, turned to his audience and bowed dramatically, lips parting in a wide grin, making Cullen snort. Obviously the horned brute was back to his old self, at least for the moment.

He stood and watched for a moment longer as Bull and the Inquisitor brushed themselves off, the crowd of curious onlookers slowly breaking up to return to their duties now that the fight was over, but when Cullen watched Bull tap Ataashi on the shoulder to get his attention, then point to the Commander nearby, he panicked. The Inquisitor’s eyes met his for a moment and he could feel his face heating in an embarrassed blush. 

As if it had been planned, simultaneously he and Dorian glanced away, scratching their necks as they looked at literally anything else but Bull and Adaar, eyes darting around the encampment, as if they hadn’t just been caught drooling at the pair like a couple of starving hounds. Out of the corner of his eye he caught both Bull’s and Ataashi’s matching mischievous grins, but did his best to pretend he didn’t see it, and beside him Dorian cleared his throat. “We’re, uh, we’re not going to discuss this, are we?” he muttered, and Cullen vehemently shook his head.

“No, no, of course not,” he chirped nervously.

Dorian nodded absently at that.

“Not ever?”

“Nope. Never. Pretending nothing happened.”

“Splendid! Right, well, goodnight.”

“Ah, yes, goodnight then.”

“Sleep well.”

“The same to you.”

“M’hmm.”

Neither could get to their tents fast enough.

* * *

The next few days we far more interesting than previously. Cullen bit his tongue atop his horse while behind him in the procession Bull decided to berate Dorian almost constantly with seedy innuendos. Bull’s banter was exceedingly inappropriate as time progressed, grating on the Altus’s very last nerve, and beside Cullen, atop his armored charger, Ataashi would occasionally glance back and grin at them both. The saving grace was that Cullen was spared any of the same treatment from the Inquisitor. For the moment. He could be sarcastic on occasion, but he was never so illicit as Bull.

But they were back to talking again, so they did partake in conversation, but it was mostly about the mission ahead of them. Adaar was polite enough to keep things professional between them still. Cullen almost wished he wouldn’t be. But as they had far more important things to deal with at the moment than their mutual attraction to one another, Cullen kept his focus on their discussion. Behind them Bull and Dorian continued their banter, while at the front of the group Cullen listened intently to Ataashi’s words like they were treasured verses of the Chant.

“It’s going to be overwhelming at first,” he continued, speaking of the effects of Red Lyrium on the mind, as Cullen hadn’t been exposed to it as often as Ataashi and the others had, and therefore wasn’t used to it. “I can’t say for certain how it will effect you specifically, but I have noticed they differ from person to person. Varric being a dwarf means he’s sensitive to any kind of Lyrium, but it didn’t effect Cassandra nearly as much. Solas and Vivienne both reported different, but stronger effects, and Dorian himself experienced slightly odd occurrences when exposed in Redcliffe.”

“Could it be the amount of Lyrium in their blood?” Cullen asked. “Dagna’s research uncovered the Red Lyrium’s ability to adapt normal Lyrium and change it. Likely that was why Corypheus chose mages as his subjects to grow Lyrium in that alternate future you were witness to.”

“M’hmm,” Ataashi nodded. “And now that we’re allied with the southern mages, he’s switched his focus to Templars instead. Because of the Lyrium they ingest. It makes their bodies the perfect breeding ground for Red Lyrium harvesting.” Cullen shuddered at those words. Never had he been more thankful that he’d stopped taking Lyrium than in that moment. “But the Lyrium only spreads when making direct contact with the target’s bloodstream,” he added. “Or prolonged exposure to skin. So don’t let shards of it get on the skin or near an open wound.”

Cullen nodded again at that tidbit of advice.

“I imagine it doesn’t effect you at all,” he remarked, and the Inquisitor blinked in surprise.

“No, it…it doesn’t. How did you know?”

“Because you don’t use Lyrium.”

Ataashi’s head swiveled. “Okay…and how did you know _that_?”

Cullen smirked. “I may no longer have all of my abilities as a Templar, but I can still sense it. The remaining bit of Lyrium inside me is drawn to the surface whenever I’m around it, but never with you.”

“Creepy,” Ataashi quipped, making Cullen chuckle. “But does it…does it hurt you?”

“Hurt me?”

“Being around Lyrium.”

“A little yes. It’s like having gone without a drop of alcohol for weeks then suddenly having a bottle of wine being thrust in your face. Like any addiction, the effect of having it near but not getting a taste of it is almost as maddening as not having it at all. Only worse.”

“How so?”

“Because wine doesn’t sing to you.”

“That’s…even creepier.”

Before Cullen could comment any further, there was a shout behind them from Dorian, who by now was fed up, and completely fit to be tied at all of Bull’s solicitous remarks. Current conversation having been brought to a halt by the distraction, Cullen leaned in to say, “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” Ataashi shared a glance with him, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, brows raised in question. “Brought the two of them for this mission just to watch them antagonize each other?” Cullen clarified, and the Inquisitor chuckled in response.

“Of course I did it on purpose,” he said, grinning. “I can practically _smell_ the tension between those two. Can’t you?”

“Just to be clear, we’re referring to romantic tension, yes?”

“Oh yeah,” Ataashi nodded. “Although they do hate each other, so they’re just as likely to kill each other by the end of it as ending up in bed together. But the way I see it, whether it’s through fighting or fucking,” Cullen couldn’t help but blush at that, “I couldn’t care _how_ the problem is solved as long as it’s solved, because I’m getting awfully damned sick of hearing the two of them bicker about it. Figured that forcing the two of them to be around each other might do the trick.” 

“To solve the problem?” Cullen asked.

“Yeah,” Ataashi nodded. “One way or another. And I think getting nailed one good time will work wonders for those two. Sex is really great for stress relief. I’d put it right up there next to chocolate as far as relief factor.”

The Inquisitor glanced over just in time to see Cullen smear a gloved hand over his reddened face, and snorted. “I’m sorry,” he told Cullen with a chuckle. “That was…yeah. That wasn’t appropriate. Sorry. Uhm…Qunari aren’t as tight lipped about sex as most other cultures. I keep forgetting that. We tend to talk about it more openly, treat it pretty much the same as we would anything else. You know, like battle strategy.”

That confused Cullen. “Wait, how is sex in any way related to battle, exactly?”

Ataashi grinned, then sucked in a breath. “In many ways,” he exhaled, rather suggestively, and there it was. The look, the tone, the roaming eyes Cullen had been expecting. It wasn’t possible for his face to turn any redder than it already was, and Cullen glanced away from the suggestive smile the Dragon sported. But he felt Ataashi nudge Cullen's leg with his own when he directed his mount closer to lean in and say, “And either way someone's getting stabbed, know what I mean?” He waggled his brows.

And at such a comment Cullen finally lost it.

Yes, it was quite evident to Cullen in that moment that the old Ataashi Adaar he remembered from their early days at Haven had indeed finally made a triumphant return.

“Maker’s breath, Inquisitor!” he exclaimed in disbelief, accidentally tugging the horse's reins, making it sidestep in confusion and nearly upsetting his balance atop his steed, not certain if he should laugh or be enraged, but he was somewhere between both, and behind them the group fell silent, curious as to what the fuss was about. “Andraste preserve me, I never should have left Skyhold,” he mumbled and beside him the giant laughed.

But that laugh though. It was glorious sound, and he should very much like to hear it more often.

“And miss all the fun, Commander?” Ataashi quipped. “But this is the best part about traveling with the Inquisitor.”

“Of course it is,” Cullen groused, fighting the urge to smile.

* * *

Their remaining forces were delayed in arrival due to inclement weather, but the Inquisitor and companions made it safely to Ghilain with few obstructions and made camp a feasible distance away from the Shrine of Dumat. There was where they would tangle with their query, and Cullen did his best to put his full focus on organizing their efforts and planning their approach. Scouts were sent ahead and came back the following day with crucial information on the fortress itself. It was ancient, but the walls were still solid, and the gate was impenetrable.

They hadn’t the siege equipment to topple the walls, which meant their only way in was through the main gate. It was too well fortified to be busted down by any weapon. So while Cullen and Bull worked with the soldiers on planning the assault, the Inquisitor and Dorian devised a way to break down the gate. Finally after spending what seemed like hours standing outside the command tent in discussion, Ataashi and Dorian both entered the tent and joined Cullen and Bull as they leaned against a table on which a crude map of the area had been spread.

“It’s quite possible,” Dorian started, “That with the combined effort of very carefully timed alternating spells our destructive magic could break through the gate.”

Bull huffed lightly. “Leave it to a couple of mages to solve the problem with magic,” he grumbled.

“Were you expecting otherwise?” Cullen chortled. “As long as that gate is open, I could care less how it’s done. Our remaining forces should be arriving within hour. We’ll attack at dawn, Inquisitor.”

Ataashi nodded once, his face now sporting a serious expression.

This was it.

There were no more jokes to be had this time around.

The fun was over.

Now, it was time to pay Raleigh Samson a visit, and grant him the justice long overdue.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Sera was supposed to be on this trip too, but she's a hard character to write. I'll try to add her in future ficlets though.


End file.
